Tag Archives: personal essay

Primitive Hunter Focus x’s Infinity

If there is such a thing as “Selective Attention Disorder” or “Primitive Hunter Focus” times infinity, I’m quite sure that I have it. Combined with my penchant for daydreaming, it makes it fairly difficult to be aware of whatever is happening around me.

My roommate, a friend, and I were walking down the street one day and my friend suddenly said, “Oh, wow.” My roommate then looked up and said, “Oh… w.o.w.”

I, not understanding what was going on, looked around with my amazing selective-focus abilities and saw…nothing.

Not wanting to look stupid, I affirmatively stated, “Oh, wow.”

My roommate looked at me. “You have no idea what is going on, do you?”

He knew me quite well at this point.

“No.”

He took my hand and pointed my finger to where a flashing ambulance, firetruck, and police car surrounded an SUV which, in the act of wrecking itself on a curb, had flung itself into the air and landed against a tree.

“Oh, WOW!”

Things that are funny in retrospect…

Several years ago I was going on a date with a nice girl in which I was extremely nervous and made a few boo-boos.

Before this evening I had never dated very much, as I was shy in high school and my first year or so of college.  At the time of this event I had just challenged myself to ‘get out of my skin’ as it were and ask members of the opposite sex out more frequently.

The girl whom I had asked out for this particular evening was from my local church ward and she was a very neat person: kind, smart, fun –– everything one could ever hope for.

Filled with the usual terrifying thought, I literally shook as I drove to her apartment.  What will I say? Should I talk about ‘this’ or ‘that?’ Does she expect me to give her a hug at the door? Should I just say ‘goodnight’ and leave directly when we’re done?

Well, I made it to her apartment, picked her up, and we went on a date.

I’m assuming she was her usual pleasant self –– I was far too nervous to be able to recall much of it. I can remember being in the car with her; seeing her; my mouth forming words, though I have no idea what they were; and the image of her making some kind of reply in return. I’m assuming she made it to her door alright as she wasn’t in my car when I got home, but I can’t remember anything else.

Well, as I sat with my car parked in the driveway and my mind raced, I slowly became of aware of what had just happened.

This was what I heard playing on my CD player:

“Even for Me” by Bobby McFerrin

No lyrics, odd beatbox noises, humming, chest pounding, experimental music. It’s an odd song and not one I would choose to represent myself.

I looked down at the CD player to see how long it had been playing, hoping that it had only just started.  On the CD player it read, “Repeat – One Song.”

My twitterpated horror was amplified by a metallic ‘scrape, scrape‘ on my windshield.  I looked up and saw that I had left my torn and dilapidated windshield wipers going since the last time it had rained –– a full day before.

This is the part I can remember: sheer agony for the entire rest of my night and following day or two as I repetitively analyzed what little I could remember of the date, hoping to discern whether or not she had mentioned it.

The next time I saw her she was her usual, kind self and never teased me about it or let on.